Sempiternity
by KaGoMeS-kId-TrEaSuRe
Summary: On a cold winter day, Sebastian finds someone he hasn't seen in a very long time. But are the risks worth the reward? Sebaciel. *COMPLETE*
1. Choices

**A.N. Dedicated to one of my best friends ever: ****Fatima, while I know this does't fix anything, I hope things are already starting to fall in place. I miss you lots and I'm so sorry that this is all I can do until I hop on a plane, get back to London, and give you a real hug! So for now, I hope you enjoy the story I started, and finished because of you ;) Et , je t'aime beaucoup, et je sais avec certitude que tu vais trouver ton amour très bientôt .**

**p.s. may contain vague TFiOS references.**

**Please read and review! Enjoy!**

**This will be a three shot, but bear with me for the next month or so while I try to figure out the plot. **

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><p>When the dryness of winter fell on the country, I found myself echoing moments of the past. It happened infrequently, hardly enough to cause concern, yet curious enough to raise suspicion amongst other demons. After all, did <em>their<em> memories recall more than just the exquisite taste of a soul? Did they often find themselves on the abandoned grounds of a past they should have dissociated from?

_Never_.

I drifted along from setting to setting, evaporating from, and reintegrating in familiar spaces I was never drawn to. Only on the grounds where no souls wandered did nostalgia hit me like cargo trains collided, or a hunger desperate to be acknowledged. For, while the world forgot, I was still bombarded with whisperings of a voice that disappeared ages ago. I was increasingly aware of the things these ruins held. Memories, still fresh to me, intermittently prodded at the back of my mind like a child's tantrum for sweets. Certainly they were simple enough to ignore, but that did not make them any _less_ irritating.

There was a time this place catered to the smell of the most exorbitant chocolates, the strongest brewed teas, and opaline bottled essences from _Ed Pinaud, Guerlain_ and_ Lubin_. Merriment of servants used to bounce off the corridors, filling the mansion with a loud, incompetent ruckus. For years a thicket of white roses boarded the garden. Their massive petals bloomed annually, to the delight of guests. But after centuries neglected and deprived of life, the non existent halls only imprisoned traces of their laughter. It only encompassed the lethargy of the numbered days that passed since the clock stopped for me.

Many feared the infamous Phantomhive estate. Known as the cursed manor where few ever visited, and even fewer returned, they demolished it decades ago. Machines tore the building down, and I lifted no finger to stop them. What reason would I have to defend a hallow casing, a shell of a memory I should have put to rest? The better, I thought. It reeked of unpleasant tidings. Now under thriving ivy, the mansion was enshrouded by tall, miscellaneous trees, and the groundwork crumbled as irreparable dreams were harshly brought to light, and dragged into reality.

_My, my...What have we here? _What valiant person dared visit a place haunted by a demon?

Spotting the presence, I skulked the bend. A young man stood at the foot of what was once the entrance to the grand mansion. He possessed a desirable soul I long yearned for. With great anticipation, I dissipated into the shadows and used the wind to draw closer in.

Just as I did so, he shifted his feet before me, and brought his hand to his right eye.

Suddenly, the back of my left hand scorched in a way it did millenniums ago. Retracting my arm, I examined it. There was no glowing insignia, no etched lines that sealed me to another. It was merely another hallucination. The ache however, was unmistakably real, and I inspected the peculiar being before me.

Beneath his thick, coal parka, I could see the delicate lining of his back. His denim pants were sleek and straight cut, sitting loosely around his slender waist. A belt held it together, stopping them from falling down completely. Black gloves covered his shivering hands which were gently tucked into the pockets of his jacket. His hair was trimmed short, and although it appeared a deep gray, it reflected shades of blue in the sunlight. Goosebumps formed on the nape of his neck, but he refused to pull his hood up, or button his jacket: exposing his delicate skin to the frigid temperatures.

There was no need to see his face to know his beauty. His gathered charm screamed features of human perfection. And as I truly laid eyes on him, I thought him a figment of my imagination when I noted how much he resembled _him_. He took no notice of me while I watched him in the shade of the surrounding forest, my eyes dubiously tracing every inch of his figure. Was I so bored, so _desperate_ for something remotely entertaining as to conjure something _this_ preposterous? No. My imagination was never as rewarding as the detailed effigy in front of me. Though I knew he could not be the same person, the moment my hand burned, I knew who he had to be.

_It's_...

Even now, I could not bring myself to say his name. He was the little one who often crossed my thoughts, whose orders were a pleasure obeying. His eyes sought me when I formed a new servitude, following me in an endless critic, and mocking me in my choice of a master. He confined me to this cage.

While his name may have changed, and his appearance varied slightly, I would not mistake him for anyone else. It was him. It was _really_ him. He is the one I lost all those years ago.

Of all the contracts, his was the most binding. Like blackbirds we sang to each other, through playful exchanges and snarky remarks that hid the nature of our agreement. The longer I was beside him, the more alike our tunes became. We sang to the beat of the only song we knew, until our melodies unified, and I could not differentiate where _I _ended, or where _he_ began. The contract that started off as nothing but a farce, ended. Our voices ran out, and the entity I was ceased to exist. I was not just a demon. I was _his_.

Bordering our sixth year together, the young master's chain reaction of sneezes alerted me of a discrepancy to his health. He insisted he was well enough to continue with our schedule. I did not oppose him. Winter was shifting to the unpredictability of spring, and it wasn't unusual for him to suffer from allergies or the occasional sniffles. As the day progressed, however, his sneezes turned into a wet cough. His appetite vanished completely. Even when I brought him a bowl of his favourite soup, he took no morsel of it. By the time I drew him a bath, his skin was singeing, and I immediately put him to bed.

He refused to see a doctor. Experience made him wary of them, and I did not blame him in the least. He floated in and out of sleep, and I tended to him whenever a coughing fit jolted him from his restless state. While only liquids passed his mouth, he could not stomach them, and they were always disgorged. The yellow-green of his phlegm began mixing with splatters of crimson, and I knew his situation was more dire than he was ready to admit. Blood stained the corners of his mouth, formulating an array of blotches on his casings. So, in the early recesses of dawn, I brought someone in.

The doctor took his temperature, and among various things, listened to the rasp of his chest. It did not take him long to decide his diagnosis. He turned to me, only an arm's length away from the master's bed.

"_Pneumonia_. With further agitation from his asthma. I regret to inform you but..." _No such cure exists_. The boy's wheezing drew my attention back to him. His eyes flashed in knowing, lapis lazuli saucers streaked with well known vermillion edges, meeting mine. I saw the unnatural rose of his flushed skin. His pink lips were tainted with revolting sangria splotches. I knew I could not fix him. It was beyond my control.

Even demons had their limitations. By nightfall he was paralyzed, skin sweltering, and colour drained from his face. I fluffed his pillows and elevated his head, making it easier for him to breathe. The mucus, however, continued building in places it should never be. Eventually his lungs would drown in the liquid, and the boy would be no more.

He was _suffering_. I stayed by his side until the very end. His placid mask vanished, replaced with a hint of fear. However, he was not afraid because he was dying-no, the boy never feared his death-but because he was doing so without completing _his_ end of the bargain. He fretted breaking the greatest thing that bound us together.

As I blotted his sweat away, he lifted his sickly hand to mine and stopped me. He was too ill to speak, but his strained eyes told me what he was thinking. This was not how he wanted to end. His helpless state repulsed him, another indication of his humiliation. He did not come back to die of a natural cause, with vengeance so intangible he hadn't yet conceived it.

When a particular coughing spell proved too painful, he urged me beseechingly. So, submitting to his final orders, I ended it.

The boy did not struggle. Instead, he held my gaze, eyes softening when my hands clamped tighter around his neck. Flashing a brief, but genuine smile, his lashes fluttered shut, falling asleep for eternity.

That was it. In that moment, our agreement was nulled. The insignia dominating my left hand lifted, disappearing along with his future. I killed the boy before he carried out his revenge, and violated my end of the covenant. Because of that, I forfeited my right to consume his soul. After all, demons prided themselves on their aesthetics, and it went against them to steal something I did not earn.

When the reapers came to collect his soul, they deemed it unremarkable. Mistakenly, of course, for the child was anything but. I waited with the corpse to fulfill his last request. His order was to see him to the very end, and while the mark was gone and I was not fettered by this demand, I was compelled to play my role to its final act. Besides, what kind of butler would I be, if I did not stay with my master to view his cinematic record, or see how well I marred his soul with despair? What did I expect to find, but the secrets he wanted to show me?

His memories attacked me, strangling me in a chokehold. Frames consisting of my face in every imaginable angle wrapped around my torso, my ankles, and wrists: hindering my movement. Each scene consisted of intimate moments involving us, moments I _too,_ questioned. Although no part of me was human, they suffocated me with their persistent images, attacking my senses with illogical conclusions. I inhabited the majority of the screen, even prevailing over his parents'. His feelings struck me in every direction, pouring into me as the final memory played.

Immediately after they faded to black, the reapers cut it, freeing me from their hold. Mixed with the master's pain and relief, was an unidentifiable emotion, one that overwhelmed me with its sudden existence.

How amusing indeed. In all my years of living, I hadn't been caught off guard as much as I have today. Even when he was gone, the boy found a way to entertain me. I was right to serve him, for he certainly exceeded my expectations.

_He loved me_.

. . .

It was a while until I made another contract.

**_What is your name?_**

I suppress the one I have grown attached to. My master is dead. Likewise, the being I was, is also dead. I was no longer a demon butler, nor did the name he gave me, belong to me. But in truth, I still was. In essence, I always will be.

_"__Sebastian," _I whisper the lie. I am not him. This I am sure of as I repeat myself. That part has gone away with the little one I murdered. I was finally set free, and yet...

_"__Sebastian Michaelis."_

...somehow, still captive within this cage, still tied by the bonds that held us together.

At first, I used the name and shape as a tribute to my previous master. But after all these years, it has become an unbreakable force of habit. No, I am certainly not the _same_ devil who created that contract. This much is true. However, I have become attached to this name and form, and one may be so kind to presume that I have grown into my previous character.

Colourless centuries fleeted past me, each day as uninteresting as the last. I waited for a soul that could match _his_ quality, but each new master turned out to be just as disappointing. None were able to satiate me. In the days of monochrome, the passage of time came to a standstill. For nothing came of the hours wasted, and the insipidity of countless sunsets were not only a nuisance, but also a relentless reminder of the centuries left in purgation. In the blink of an eye, generations upon generations of human modification shaped the world around me, but I remained constant.

Only when I first revisited the grounds of the ancient manor did I realize that time affected the unaffected. Something changed within me over the course of the small segment of infinity. At first I thought that my obsession sprang from not devouring his soul, but it went beyond that.

To begin with, I did not kill him because of his order, but out of mercy. Nothing in our contract stated I _couldn't_ watch him suffer needlessly. My actions did not benefit anyone except _him_. I spared him from his misery. I showed him _mercy_. Demons are never so generous.

I missed the one who freed me from monotony. Why else would I attempt to provoke the same promise with my new masters? It was unnecessary. I wanted to meet with the soul I have long lost, the one who changed me. And here he is. The boy standing over there is _Ciel_, and he is so close to me that I can almost touch him. I was inexplicably drawn to his soul, so enthralled by his very presence that I hadn't moved at all. Yet there is nothing I could do about it. It will only end in my misery when he grows old and we part. When he is six feet into the ground, rotting under a pile of dirt, I will be the one who is left to miss him for eternity.

I have waited and waited. I have lived many empty human lives searching for him. How can I deal with the inevitable fate of separation, or the fact that I may only be with him in _this_ life? Would it not be easier to laugh him off as a mere figment of my imagination? Shouldn't I carry on, and turn my back on him forever?

Suddenly the boy turned around. Sangria met with the same cerulean I dearly missed. His eyes widened, taken aback by my sudden presence. If I don't say anything now, it may be the last chance I have.

Oh, how foolish of me. I had my answer all along. If a prophet told me my future, and warned me of the turmoil I will be put through for meeting him, it would not change a thing.

Between a world stripped of anything spectacular, and one of unending torment, I will _always_ choose him.


	2. Again

Chapter two: Again

"Do I know you?"

The thought slipped passed his blushing lips and spilled into the atmosphere like gasoline. He blinked away his temporary surprise, caught off guard by his own curiosity. Ready to ignite at any given moment, his voice danced gracefully between the silence: a prelude to the fire that fueled every unanswered question.

An indefinite amount of worry nestled between his eyebrows, as if I was cause for distraught. I followed his dulled, azure eyes, scrutinizing my face in slight disbelief. The mass blue of sky erupted in a flurry of snowflakes. Though they came without warning, I would not be distracted by their sudden appearance. A particularly daring one landed perfectly atop his head, hanging dangerously off his locks before swiftly melting away from his heat. His breath fanned across his face. I watched, mesmerized, when the fog dissolved, to see what had been denied from me in this life.

"What do you think you're doing here, little one?"

Whatever concern that befell him was replaced with relief. The young man glared at me, huffing when I called him 'little one'. I suppose that was offensive, since he wasn't so _little _anymore. In comparison to my child master, he stood nearly a foot taller, a few years older. While holding their impeccable cherubim prominence, his features were sharper. The lines on his sculpted jaw were noticeably wider. Though delicate in many attributes, his body had a leanness to it that commanded the attention of all. When he spoke, the uncertain rasp in his youthful voice melted into a soft tenor that compelled me to my spot. Yet I was still undiscerning. How was it possible that I stumbled on the same creature I was transfixed by all those years ago?

"I could ask you the same thing. I own this place, and you, sir, are trespassing."

"You managed to sound convincing, but I am well acquainted with the true owner of these grounds, and you are certainly not _him_. Which only means that _you_ are the trespasser," I flashed him a polite smile. His ears perked when I mentioned the owner, but he did not falter. He kept his calm, though his scent was riddled with mortification. This one was not used to getting caught in a lie.

"You must be mistaken," he insisted, "I own this land." It was a proud declaration I hadn't heard in ages. If there was doubt before, it was unquestionable now. The way he emphasized his words was the same proud way the little lord did.

He stood in contemplation of his next move as snow began piling into his hood. The longer he stayed, shivering in the cold, the rosier his cheeks became. If he remained exposed to this kind of weather, the more susceptible he would be to catching another illness. What was he thinking, coming here without protecting himself from the weather? In fact, what were his reasons for being in such a place?

The quiet grumble of his stomach interrupted my internal scolding. Where was he staying? Was he getting a sufficient amount of food? Obviously not, according to his shameless stomach.

"Are you cold? Hungry? If you'd like, we can discuss this over a warm meal."

"Don't be ridiculous. What makes you think I'd be willing to follow a stranger?"

"A stranger?" I found myself scoffing at the absurdity. He must know that I have never been a stranger to him. Surely he is aware of _something_, if he managed to find himself here.

"Just...who are you?"

"I've had many names in the past, but I prefer to be called Sebastian," I said, inching closer. There was a sudden shift of feet as he stared at me, mouth slightly agape. It was the name he was wishing to hear, but never truly expected. It was enough, at least, to briefly fuel the fire in his extinguished eyes.

He did not flinch. Even when I was a fraction of a hair away, he did not cower in fear. But I knew. Oh, I could feel it. Flowing through his veins were a series of conflicting emotions. His instincts screamed at the unnatural entity before him. They warned him to turn back, to run to the world he was currently a part of. That piece of him was acutely aware of the danger, and yet he refused to listen. There was another piece of him, a very foolish one, that overthrew those senses. They begged him to come closer. They pleaded to be with me.

"And you? What do you call yourself?"

I felt his hesitation. Perhaps he knew the utterance of the name would result in a change. That, if he were to say the name he's grasping on to so tightly, locking behind his pursed lips, he may keep everything he has come to accept. He shuffled back, distancing himself from me. There was still a chance to go back to that life. He need only state a different name, turn around, and never come back.

"Ciel," he breathed the name I could never bring myself to speak. In the distance, was the toll of an old church clock. He looked in the direction of the chimes that rang through the air, and counted the hour.

"I should go," he said ducking his head into his popped collar. Before I could coax him to stay, before I could even say his name, he turned around and marched in the opposite direction. I watched him, bewitched by his poise, and did nothing to stop him. For, if I knew him as well as I thought, he would come back on his own accord.

When I was far enough from earshot, he stopped.

"Will I... see you again?" he demanded without looking back.

"Of course," I replied, not daring to look away, "whenever you wish to see me, I will always be there."

. . .

"Welcome back. Something told me you wouldn't stay away for long."

It had only been a few hours since our last encounter. The sun rose merely hours ago, and while morning had yet to begin, the young man had already found his way here.

I hadn't gone far away from the ruins of the old mansion. I couldn't risk missing an early visit from him, and so I found a comfortable spot on the branches of a tree, and waited. The night came, and went, faster than any I had come across before. There was something different about that evening that made me eager for day to come. While I was fully conscious, and demons _do not_ sleep, there was something lucid in the air that made the world feel _dreamlike_. His presence was nothing short of astounding, and awaiting his return was enough to bide my time.

He looked as if he too, hadn't slept all night. His hair was ruffled, and dark circles were pressed under his eyes. He was wearing the same coal parka, finally zipped up, with the addition of a plain woolen scarf. At least he tried to dress more appropriately this time.

"Care for some breakfast?"

He thought about it, and nodded.

I took him to a café down the street that seemed suitable enough for him. I ordered him a mug of Earl Grey and eggs Benedict, and a bottle of water for myself. If I was to be in the human world, I might as well pretend to be one.

When I sat down, he had removed his coat and scarf, and was eyeing the meal until I put it in front of him. He began eating slowly, paying more attention to the eggs than the one watching him.

He was, despite the physical changes, exactly like the master. The cold way he ate as if I wasn't really there, the way, no matter how hard he tried, something always ended up smeared on the corner of his mouth, or his appetite for bitter teas were all the same. There were little tidbits of himself which were still present in this new form of his.

"I am surprised you agreed this time."

"I figured if you wanted to kill me, you would have done so already," he smirked and ate his bread in peace.

"Tell me about yourself, Sebastian," he said as he finished up the last of his tea.

"I'm afraid this talk will not do well in here," I flashed my eyes crimson for only him to see, and his eyes widened with intrigue. He knew just what I was without having to say it.

We made our way out of the café, and roamed the tired streets of London. For the most part, we marched, side by side for hours, in comfortable silence. It was just as it was before. He walked slightly ahead of me, our strides near matching, as we dipped in each others' presence. When I could tell his feet were sore, and he was no longer enjoying our walk, I brought him to the nearest park.

Facing a small lake, and hidden from the paths of strolling couples, was a bench which I sat down on. He gladly sat with me.

"You are not from here, are you?" I asked. Although I did not diligently search for him too far out of London, I would have felt his presence if he were anywhere near this area. So, how was he able to escape my detection? Where has he been hiding all this time?

"Yes, I was born in Plymouth, but I grew up in a little city in France." If he was surprised by the question, he did not show it. It's no wonder, then. I stayed in England thinking if he were to return as anything but himself, he would come here. I was right, in a way. He was here, after all. But how many times had he returned without my knowledge? How many times have I missed my chance to be with this precious soul?

"What brings you here, then?" He shoved his gloved hands into his pocket, and stared at the sky before answering.

"I wasn't lying, you know. That place does belong to me. My parents they...it was really under their name, but now it belongs to me. I am a Phantomhive."

"How are you related to them?" That's impossible, _he_ didn't have any...

"I never inherited the name, but I am a descendant of one Edward Midford, whose mother was a Phantomhive before her marriage. My great grandmother was part Midford, and in my blood I carry the same pedigree, though much less. I am still a Phantomhive, nonetheless."

I see. So _that_ was why he was the spitting image of the little earl.

"But Ciel is not, in fact, your real name?" I questioned.

"My real name doesn't matter, Sebastian. _You_ out of all people should know that. A name is something given to you by someone who has never met you before. Strangers. Is it not more important, what I know myself to be?"

He was right, in a sense. Humans prided themselves on the names they received, and would strive to fill those names as they grew. But a name is nothing more than you believe it to be. They were created to differentiate one another, to boast of the accomplishments within their lineage-things they have not achieved, but accept praise for. They meant nothing to me, until recently. After all, my name was also chosen for me under similar circumstances. What I am now has very much to do with the fact I was ghosting a name that didn't belong to me anymore.

"Then you are, I presume, truly the reincarnation of the one Ciel Phantomhive?"

His gaze dropped, wistfully scanning the iced over lake.

"It's my understanding that reincarnation means I am somehow a different person from my predecessor. My soul, as I believe it is, has been reborn into a new body, that much is true. Aside from that fact, there is no difference between the me now, and the me before. I am, however, here. Our thoughts are the same, our memories, mostly. We are simply separated by a thousand years. Though it seems odd to everyone else, I have never considered myself anyone _but_ Ciel Phantomhive."

The boy sitting beside me has a set of memories that aligned with the young master. He carried a soul identical to the young master. Then he _must_ know-

"It's getting cold," I remarked, watching him tremble slightly. "Is there a place you would like me to take you?'

He stood up without a word, only nodding at me to follow. I met with his pace, and he led me to the hotel he was staying at.

Upon entering his room I was immediately intoxicated by his scent. Although he hadn't inhabited it for long, it was enough to enveloped me. It was a fairly spacious place with sparse furniture. A queen sized bed dominated the farthest end, and a large television was displayed promptly in front of it, standing on a mahogany dresser.

"I used to have dreams," he said over his shoulder, as he kicked off his winter clothing and made way to the kitchen to warm up some water. I sat down at a petit glass table in the middle of his room and he joined me.

"At least, I used to think they were, since they first came to me while I slept," he continued slowly. "My whole life I've dreamt of being consumed by an unrelenting fire. I'd see an old mansion burning to the ground over and over again, I'd feel the heat on my skin as if I were melting with it."

He stood up to stop the now crying teapot, and returned with two mugs of tea. I declined his offer, and he did not press me. He took a sip before continuing.

"I saw the faces of people I called my parents lying, dead on the ground. But they're not them. They're not the ones I have come to know," he chuckled darkly, staring at the liquid I determined was chamomile.

"But those weren't the worst ones. I've seen people in masks, forcing me to eat, dancing around me, taking their turns..." he cleared his throat and took another sip.

"My night terrors tore my parents apart. I'd constantly wake up screaming, and they'd have to comfort me until I fell asleep again. They worried about me, always paranoid at the little things that might set me off...always watching me to make sure I was okay."

"But oddly enough, those weren't the dreams that stood out most to me. The ones that I recall the most, are always of a figure who's constant vigilance I was under. I saw his face, _your_ face," he stressed, "everywhere."

He paused again before saying, "I told my parents about that man. They told me they were only dreams and '_dreams cannot hurt you_'. But I knew he wasn't there to hurt me. At least, it seemed more like he was there protecting me. They didn't believe me when I insisted he must have been real. But I'd see him, I'd see you..."

Suddenly, he was staring right at me, voice filled with wonder.

"Those weren't just dreams, were they? They were... things that really happened. They are memories from my other life, when I was born a Phantomhive. No one believed me, no one understood why I never answered to my name, but it's only because I wasn't who they thought I was."

"Last month, I lost both my parents...and I found...I found _you_. There was a photograph of us, in that old life, in that torn down mansion. I looked it up, found the deeds to the estate, and I came here. I have known you, Sebastian, for my entire life. There is no way I could mistake you for someone else, this much I'm sure of. But see, even though I remember most things, I don't remember everything. I know you are not of this world, I know we made some sort of contract, but I don't recall what the nature of our relationship was. For the life of me, I don't understand those memories. But I can't shake off the feeling that..." a blush crept onto his face when he caught himself droning.

I was satisfied that he remembered even a little bit of me, but angry that he didn't recall it all. How could he forget the feelings he forged upon me? I have not spent a night without a single thought of him, and yet he... _Humans were such blissful creatures._

"Why is it I remember everything, but I can't piece together everything about you?"

He fell silent, waiting for my reply. I wasn't sure what answer I could give him to thoroughly explain the life we shared together.

"You were my master, once."

"And you were my butler. But was that all? That can't be. Did you at least, love me like a son?"

I shook my head, no.

"We made a contract. You sold your soul for revenge. Except, after years of working for you, you became too ill to continue our pursuit. I killed you. You died before either of us fulfilled the bargain, and I suppose your soul went on its way."

He gulped down what remained of his tea, and gently stood up. Making his way to his suitcase, he took out a white t-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms. Then, rather abruptly, he took off his shirt and replaced it with the other. I turned away, giving him some privacy though his lack of decency called for none.

"What? As if you haven't seen me undress before. _Really_," he teased.

Anger suddenly filled me, and I lunged at him. Immediately, one hand found the base of his throat, pinning him to the wall, while the other held his face in place, squeezing his cheeks to cease his goading. It did enough to silence him, as he waited for me to speak again.

"Do not tempt me. Never forget that I am a demon, little one, a free demon who is not bound to you. We have created no contract. I am not entitled to give you everything you wish. I am not entitled to do your bidding, nor can I promise you will be safe in my presence at all times. I am a demon. I do not have to remain as civil as I have been. Nothing is stopping me from killing you."

Except, I was distracted by the way his toes managed to touch the ground, and that his legs no longer dangled when I brought him to eye level. It was then that I noticed the thickness of his neck, and the fact that he came up to my nose when he stood upright. My, he's so grown! _How could I have missed it? _

When I broke from my frenzy, I saw him smiling at me, as if he were happy to meet with the demon.

"Now, don't be coy. You must have some inkling as to why you are still here."

"You didn't kill me before, Sebastian," he said, putting his hands overtop mine in attempt to calm me. I let him go and he landed on both feet, rubbing the marks left by my fingers.

"Perhaps I am here a second time to make sure you will not go back on your word again-"

"Wrong," I sneered, feeling the rage slipping back.

"You didn't take my soul when you had the chance. I remember. You used to go off about how much you wanted to devour every inch of it, yet when the time came and you were given the chance you did _nothing_. You lied. The only possible reason for that is because you loved me," he whispered, "then, and now. You love me."

"And you? The reason you stayed though you are fully aware I am a demonic being?"

He smirked playfully, as he sat on his bed to finish changing. "Because the me before loved you too."

"Before? That is to say, you do not love me now?"

"I may have known of you for my entire life, but I still know nothing about you. The you within my dreams, was never a human being. You were always, always something that continued to play a role. That? What you just did there was your true nature, not whatever façade you put on for me."

"I was more true to you than I ever was to anyone else," I assured, placing a hand over my heart and bowing slightly as I did.

"I find that hard to believe."

"I do not tell lies, my little one. Not to you. Not ever, and not now."

He stood up, filling the space between us. He lifted a hand, and delicately forced me to look at him. I felt tingling in my cheek where his fingers traced me. Nothing was spoken for a while, as he continued staring at me.

"Why did you come here?" I found myself asking. He could have lived the rest of his life unburdened by me.

"You've been grieving all this time, haven't you?" His eyes burned with pity as he looked at me, his face drawing closer to mine.

"That's why you were at the mansion yesterday...Well, I am here now, Sebastian. I am here, and we finally have the chance to finish what we started. Tonight, you may devour me if you please. And when you're through, you can finally go on."

"I will never be through with you," I growled lowly, pressing our foreheads together.

"I'd hope not," he grinned impishly, wrapping his arms around my neck before pulling me in to taste his lips. I met with his fervent kiss, my mouth moving with his as he poured into me every emotion withheld in the past. His kiss, inexperienced and delightful in every aspect, was one I had never felt before. The urgency between each breath drove me mad with bliss, pervading my thoughts with his sweetness, and causing a strange sensation to boil in my chest.

When he couldn't breathe anymore, he let me go to catch his breath. Then, pushing off of me, he strolled to the light switch and flicked off the lights. Once again walking past me, he went straight to the bed, pulled down the covers, and slipped under them.

"Stay with me? At least until I fall asleep," he demanded, lying down and rolling to his side to expose his back. I swiftly positioned myself at the foot of his bed. But just as I stood there, he propped himself onto his elbows, and grinned sheepishly at me. With a short, disapproving tut of his tongue, and a shake of his head, he patted the empty side of the mattress, and extended his arms towards me.

I laughed at his forwardness before throwing myself onto the bed, wrapping my arms around him, and holding him.

That night, I found myself falling into a rare state of common stupor, in a peaceful sleep that had never came before. For what more could I ever ask, when I had him with me again?

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><p><strong>A.N. Because today is their anniversary and I had to to something about it. <strong>

**Thank you for waiting oh so patiently! I'm very sorry it took so long. After a while of trying to tweak the plot, I think I have it mostly figured out. I should be back with the last and final chapter in about a month, after all my exams and junk. **

**As always, thank you for the reviews/favourites! You guys are awesome!**


	3. Sempiternity

**A.N. Some major warnings for this chapter before I begin: there will be blood and suicide mentions. However, this story was not intended to romanticize any of that.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Sempiternity<strong>

We built a life together. He abandoned the thought of living a normal human existence and cloaked himself with deception. Without my request, he readily cut what few ties he had left. Gradually, he withdrew from society, taking his small fortune with him. I created a comfortable life around us: one meant for ourselves. We moved into a modest country house far enough from the city. The estate was no where near as extravagant as the mansion, but in it, we were happy.

Far from nosy neighbors, or insufferable traffic, we basked in the mornings of solitude. To preoccupy himself throughout the day, he accepted a leisure job that did not require him to leave the house. Though it was of low income, he didn't care. Producing money was not an issue for either of us. While he was working cases, I did what I did best. I took care of him.

After years apart, we finally had an ideal ending. We had the chance to grow old with each other, and we made up for that lost time. I prepared the meals he loved every day. This time, nothing was 'improper' about being in the kitchen, and so it didn't embarrass him to watch me wide-eyed in wonder. In his spare time, he even offered to help. While he wasn't adept at cooking, making dinner together was amusing for both of us.

In winter we snuggled under heavy comforters, and talked until the sun rose again. On endless rainy days, we strolled around in mud splattered boots. I never understood the necessity of the changing seasons until I spent them with him, this time around. We sat in silence, heads resting on laps, hand in hand, or side by side. Touching him wasn't an impossibility. He was more than the effigy created in my mind. His breath mingled with mine when he pressed up against me, or gazed at me adoringly. That was more than my imagination could fabricate. I could hold him, and he would still be there.

We made love in obscure places, stole kisses in midday, and bickered at just the right amount. Each day was momentous, filled with precious things even if nothing in particular happened. There was something about being by his side that made the otherwise tedious world, promising. But the boy who fueled me with life and lifted me from the ruins of purgatory suffered from a fear that gnawed at him. His spirit wilted like a floret faster than I could salvage it.

I noticed the subtle changes in his behavior long before I knew the cause. I felt the anxious glances and breathy sighs. He clung to me at night, like I would disappear if he let go. There were times he hated getting up, wishing for the clock to stop again. When morning came, he bewailed daytime, yearning for the moon to return. It wasn't until it was too late to save him from the world he had fallen into, that I knew. He dreaded when these blissful days would end for both of us.

The not so child was afraid of our fate. He knew each passing minute indicated his aging. He despised it. Soon he would surpass my age in appearance, and that was a horrifying realization. It sent him into a frenzy of self-loathing. Mirrors were regarded with abhorrence, and anything to do with maturing even more was avoided. He blamed himself for the unsaid separation looming over us, as if he were the sole cause for the inevitable. It headed for us at an alarming rate, and it frustrated him that there was nothing _ethical_ we could do about it. We had to indulge in the time we had left. He knew that. Still, a violent depression took over him the way feelings often do. They slapped an hourglass on the rest of the world, making everything in his periphery an omen of death.

They came without cause or warning. Triggered by simple things, he lost himself in worry of when we would no longer be together. He cursed the uncontrollable circumstances which we found each other in. To be presented with an uncertain period was unfair. How could anyone be so hapless?

Despite it, he remained the creature I commended him to be. My proud little earl masked agony with indifference. Knowing he was hiding such a pained expression from me was nothing short of infuriating. It wasn't a burden he had to bear alone.

Didn't he know we were bound together? Two birds were imprisoned in this cage, and neither were attempting to escape. Except, there were no shackles or iron bars that forced us in. We were trapped on our own accord. This was the life I desired. Even before knowing he existed, I made that decision. No matter how miserable the ending, I would see it through till the end. I could live off these memories until we made more. Waiting was a minor annoyance compared to his complete absence. Because in the end, nothing was more unfulfilling than a life without him.

We often argued about his mortality. There was an option to avoid the unspeakable. It was the only viable one for us to remain the way we were. I explained it when curiosity overcame him; how to become like me. Although I was created a demon, I knew the means to immortality. It was the elixir humans sought for from the beginning of time. I thought it would ease his mind if he knew a method, but it simply upset him more. After that, he dismissed any talk of becoming inhuman.

Even when we had come to the end of our second half-lived life, he refused the very idea.

"We will meet again. I know you. You will find me. And I will always find my way back to you."

"But Ciel, my love," I protested, "are you willing to put it to the test?"

He shook his head, and shrugged. "This isn't for me to decide."

"Then let me decide for you," I insisted, pressing my lips on the palm of his hand.

"Sebastian...one day, we will be together again, forever. But not now. Not in this life."

Normally, I would be furious over a silly statement like that. After all, how could he be so sure about the future when I was not? But something, be it his sincerity or the way his azure pleaded, made me hold my tongue. There were no church bells tolling in the distance, but both of us knew it was time.

"Then, my love, I shall wait for you, forever," I said, and I truly meant it.

. . .

I caught a glimpse of him in the middle of a street market teeming with people. The lively prattle of meaningless conversations exasperated me, as I tried to focus on the only one of importance.

As usual, a single glance was all it took to mesmerize me. He was preoccupied at a fruit stand, closely examining the red delicious in his hand. What I would have done to trade places with it. Spin hay into gold? Leap over mountains? Retrieve a fallen star? For his undivided attention, I would.

The mumbled chatter rose and fell, muted only by the hum of his throat. He thanked the fruit vendor and accepted the bag of apples after handing over some bills. Before he was aware I was there, or I managed to snatch him away from the crowd, I stopped myself. I silently praised his younger figure, the soft edge of his bitten lips, and the irresistible curve of his neck before doing what I should have done in the past. I walked away.

It wasn't my intention to see him. I vowed to give him the space he desired. And although I succeeded in avoiding the places I knew he would visit, his reoccurring presence around the area was impossible to ignore. No matter how determined I was to stay away, somehow I found myself in his vicinity. I was hopelessly drawn to him. My limbs were not my own. They belonged to my clever string master, and I, his lifeless marionette.

So, I slinked away into the crowd, looking for a distraction to stop me from simply heading back to reintroducing myself.

He was right. We were fated to meet again. Through years that spanned over lifetimes, I came across him in various forms and ages. I catered to him at every stage, fulfilling his every need, and doing exactly as I promised. I lived off every pleasant memory until he was regenerated. Except, the demon I was, had been dormant for centuries. Beneath the mansion's ruins was the malevolent being who considered spreading vices and killing sprees as distractions. But I have changed. Oh, how I have changed. Now, such distasteful acts weren't even worth _doing_.

Ciel wasn't a simple portion of the sky. He was my sun. When he died, he erupted into a black hole that swallowed the world in his path. He took everything with him, and I could hardly retell what I did during the waiting game.

There were times he came to me at six, wild and starry eyed, and I aged myself appropriately. Those were the lives I enjoyed most. It meant having him in his most endearing state. Perhaps I would have seen him in a similar position in the past, had the fire not burned all his pleasant memories. We went on treasure hunts and when his allergies reappeared, stayed inside and played board games until dawn. While he didn't always know who I was in those lives, it didn't bother me. Sharing a childhood meant we had more time with each other.

I waited until he was old enough to express his love in ways he did before, but sometimes they never came.

Other times he was sixty and needed a cane to walk. Those were harder to endure. The older he was, the more likely I was forgotten, and the more difficult it was for him to accept me into his fully lived life. This was especially true if he already had a family of his own.

He was sicker and paler than his youth, and his sudden recollection of me only struck him with more grief. Ceaselessly he berated himself for forgetting me; remarks countered with loving reassurance that he wasn't at fault. And he wasn't. We only had this endless game of hide and seek to blame. So, I sat with him in my elderly state and never left his side. I bid my time until we had to say goodbye again. As always, they came too quickly.

But I learned to take the short lives together over the ones where we never met. Those were the worst. Pining for his return stretched decades into centuries. I was put on pause until he came back to me. It was torturous not knowing if our previous life was meant to be the last. What if that was it for us? Was I condemned to waiting for someone who was never coming back to me?

When we reached the end of every cycle, I asked if it was time to change him. That way, we'd never have to worry about a 'last'. We could go on like we did as master and servant. His reply was consistent. It was never the time nor place. But I obeyed him and lived out the life without complaint. If that was what he wanted, I would not argue. I did, however, begin to wonder if the 'right time' would ever come.

It didn't take long until I finally grew exhausted of this. I wanted him with me forever. No more harrowing goodbyes, or waiting in between. No more misplaced guilt. I wanted more. My greed sealed his early demise, and I was determined it would never happen again.

_"__Won't you reconsider?" _

_"__I'm not worth it, Sebastian. Me over those children? How could I agree to such a thing?" _

_He was getting anxious, but I couldn't help myself. I pressed him further. I wanted...I wanted him, but not like this. It shamed me to admit it. The one I wanted back wasn't the precarious child, but the self-assured version of his past. While he was indeed the same master I cherished all those years ago, there was something different about us. Something hindered us from being as we once were._

_"__Please, Ciel." _

_In that moment, I think he understood the emptiness I've felt as I lived these lives without him. While he grew to love me until the end of his life, _my_ affection for him would never truly end. My feelings were carried over from life to life. They never left. They were always at the forefront of thoughts, feelings which could never be replaced, forgotten, or ignored. I grew to love him more with each day, and mourned him no matter how much time passed. _

_"__Then from now on, you are free," he looked at me apologetically. He opened his mouth just to swiftly clamp it shut. Sadness crept into his azure eyes, a pain I wanted to bear in his place. Edging away from me, he picked up his keys and announced,_

_"__I'm going for a walk."_

_"__Alone? This late at night?"_

_"__Yes, and I'd appreciate you not following me," he said before stepping out. _

_He took his own life that night. I didn't look for him immediately after he left, feigning to respect his space. In truth, I was the one who needed a moment to think. We had similar, unresolved arguments before. Why couldn't he accept that the only way we could be what we were, was to let me transform him into a demon? Why couldn't he just trust me? _

_As I spent the night brooding, he rented a hotel, filled the tub with water, and drowned himself. I found him hours too late. _

_"__I'm sorry," I whispered the next morning, as I lifted his body from the water. He felt heavier in my arms, his garments attributing to much of the weight as they soaked mine. His hand instantly dropped to the floor when I cradled him, and I swooped it up to clamp mine around it. It felt as cold and unnaturally stiff as ice. It lacked the softness I craved. _

_My guilt was answered by his deafening silence, and the trickling of water that dripped back into the tub. It was then that I decided. Although it was too late for me to forget him, he had choices I opted out of years ago. He could still choose a life without me. _

_We were birds held captive by each other: flying around in circles, daring the other to go higher, faster, farther without breaking. Neither of us were willing to let go, until _now_. _

_I was responsible for his death in that life. It was his way to telling me to stop these games. He had enough. _

"Hold on! Sebastian?"

I stopped mid-stride, unable to contain my curiosity. He knew me in this life. Otherwise, he wouldn't have followed me, or called me by _that_ name. The last time he remembered me so clearly was in his second life. We rarely had a chance to continue where we left off. To ignore the opportunity without another thought would be regrettable. I swirled around, careful not to look at him directly, else my self control crumbled.

"It really is you," he beamed, and threw his arms around me. Tilting his head, he forced me to meet with his devilish grin. When I refused, the corners of his mouth turned down in annoyance, but he didn't say a word. Perhaps he could sense a difference in this life.

"Sebastian, quit playing around. Say something already," he said. He leaned in, scrutinizing me.

I caught a whiff of his scent. He smelled like daffodils: rich and intoxicating. It was difficult to resist dining on his saccharine sweetness when he willingly offered. His brows knitted together when I remained quiet. As much as I wished to dote on him, to swiftly pick him up and return his warmth, I was unmoving. The low tut of his tongue meant he understood. Slowly retracting his arms, he stepped back.

"What the hell?" he demanded, irises boiling like molten rock. His face flushed at the rejection. Furiously, he searched me for an answer. My unreadable expression only frustrated him more. He was begging me to look him in the eyes. Instead, my attention fell on his bitten lips. They pursed together idly, and I committed the action to memory. Although he did nothing to convince me, I could feel myself ready to give in, when-

_- His body bobs gently in the water, as the realization hits me that his heart was no longer beating... -_

"Sebastian, we haven't been like this in forever, and this is the reaction I get? Aren't you pleased to see me?"

_- Water laps his hair, pulling him in only to spit him back out. The floor is still wet around the tub. He must have filled it to the brim, for it to spill this much. His leg dangles over the edge, and I wonder how long he'll pretend he's dead. _

_A chuckle arises in my throat at his twisted sense of humour. My laughter only heightens when it's clear he isn't playing a petty prank. He killed himself in a successful attempt to leave me. Of all our lives together, it finally made sense. He wasn't running from immortality. He was running from _**_me_**_. _

_It was quite amusing, really, to realize it so late. _I_ was the only one who cared about our history. We lived this way at _my _command. I strung him along like a cargo train, pulling him closer to the gates of hell with me. _I_ forced us to reenact echoes of our misshapen past. He was enchanted by my trill, unable to escape my tune. I never stopped to ask him if this was what he wanted. I never thought of anything besides the void created in me by a ghost; the gap, _I_ decided, only _he_ could fill. -_

"How much of your last life do you recall?"

"All of it," he responded without skipping a beat, "but I don't see what that has to do with anything."

"Ciel, you..."

He cut me off with another scowl before taking a deep breath. It was a rather nonchalant gesture, considering the topic of his death.

"I know what I did, Sebastian."

"Then why do you persist on following me? You made it quite obvious what you wanted," I tried to compose myself, but I sounded as bitter as I felt. He would rather die then live any longer with me. I was _suffocating_ him.

"Is that...is that what you think? That I don't _want to _be with you? Is that why you've been avoiding me?"

He left no room for an answer. Again he leaned in, this time to hug me around the waist. Shaking his head vehemently, he lifted onto his toes and pressed his forehead to mine. I could smell traces of salt water threatening to fall.

"Don't be ridiculous. Of _course_ I do," he whispered. He shut his eyes to bury his feelings, but the rest of his body betrayed him. There was a permanent wrinkle settling between his brows, and I could hear a crack in his faltering voice.

"I just couldn't stand the thought of...of you waiting for me anymore. I didn't want you to _suffer_."

"If you wanted to disentangle from me, then why are you here?" I asked. My fury was boiling over. He winced, as if my words wounded him. Although I meant them sharply, a part of me wanted to apologize for them. He was shaking when he glared at me, his mouth curling into a strange smile. I felt his muscles taut under me. This time ensuring that I was looking at him, he gingerly held me between his hands.

"I have a feeling that..." he said in a hush, silencing me, "this is my last life."

It occurred to me that this wasn't just a feeling to him, but something he was quite sure of.

"I wanted to at least live it out with you."

His words had the opposite effect. I was angrier than I'd ever been. For years I waited for him. For centuries I've chased after him. I have done everything I could possibly do to save him from the grave. Yet, he threw it all away. And now, when his life was going to end conclusively, here he was, telling me how I have failed. He was showing me what I will be left with, and unintentionally giving me more reason to miss him. Was he planning to paint my life in the most wondrous colours, simply to abandon it half way? Simply to smear the canvas in black?

"Why then, when I asked you to become a demon did you reject it?"

"I thought perhaps if I were like you...something would change between us, as it already has...or you would...eventually get bored of me. And then what, Sebastian? What would I have done if you _ever_ decided to leave me? How long would I live resenting the world? And those lives I ruined just so I could be with you would be...my life would be _meaningless_."

"But I've thought about it, while you were staying away from me. I thought about it, and I don't care anymore. I have to at least _try_ to fight for us the way you've always fought for me. That way...should you leave me, I won't be...I was just so _scared_..." the foreign word slipped through his mouth. He remained silent for a while, azure irises swallowing me up.

Finally, it dawned on me what he was trying to say.

"Do you mean...?"

"Yes," he nodded, "it's time."

My core fluttered with warmth when he smiled at me. It was the most genuine expression that graced his face in centuries. My breath hitched, snagging at the base of my throat. How lucky I was to stumble upon this creature. How many people had the chance to be with their mate forever? It was remarkable. The fingers sifting through my hair reminded me that this was real. This was it. Together, we dispelled the lingering loneliness that made way into our hearts. We were not alone anymore. And after today, we will never be again.

"I have two conditions, though," he declared as we finished our silent reunion.

"The souls must only come from those fated to die soon. I won't accept it from someone who has many years to live." Of course. I expected nothing less from him. While it wasn't a difficult feat, it did make for more obstacles.

"And the second?"

"Should you ever tire of me...I'd like that you kill me first," he grinned mischievously. It was so infectious that I find myself returning it.

"Likewise," I agreed, and I swept down for a feather-light kiss. "I'll begin collecting the souls tonight."

"I'm coming with you," he announced. "I have to see it...the sacrifice they're making for me."

I considered telling him to stay, unsure if I wanted him to see me in that state. However, I accepted. Eventually, he will actively feast on souls. What would it hurt to show him the being he would become? Besides, if it was what he wanted...

Instantly swooping him up with one arm, I broke into a sprint. He was slimmer in this life, and it took no effort to haul him around.

The air was frigid as we leaped across the rooftops. My feet barely grazed the tiles before they brushed on another to push us forward. We glided languidly through the night, backs against the things that prevented us from staying together. Whenever I sped up, he clung to me. Amused by it, I made sure to dash high enough to briefly touch the sky. The trick was effective, and he held on just as tightly throughout our entire journey. His nose nuzzled into my shirt, and I could hear his subtle intake of breath. Smiling, I wrapped an arm around his head to shield him from the cold. It may read springtime on a human calendar, but the snow had yet to defrost.

The secret to immortality?

It is said that those who kill become malevolent spirits. To slaughter one created by heaven is a sin so abominable that it tears the soul into pieces. What's more, to murder children for that purpose, the souls of which have never been marred, will strip you of your humanity. Because the only thing capable of harming something so pure must not be _human_. Blood of the immortal and thirteen undefiled souls were needed to create one, undying one. This was what I had to make myself do: steal the most innocent souls and feed them to him.

We arrived at the Royal Hospital at nine o'clock. The sun had already set, but the building was just as active during the night. Nurses were making their rounds, and a custodian was in the middle of waxing the floors. Sneaking past them, we made our way through the uninviting hallway. On the second level, located on the farthest end of the right wing, was a ward filled with infants. When we reached it, I set him down where he was hidden from security cameras, and could go unnoticed by other personnel.

Four transparent boxes were aligned on both sides of the room. Each infant was strapped to various tubed contraptions I had little knowledge of dealing with. They were resting soundly, nestled in their personal incubator. The room was warm without feeling humid, and welcoming despite being unnaturally tidy. A distinguishable, pungent smell liken to death was opposed by an equally strong stench of antiseptic. The children seemed enervated, and if we didn't have a reason for being here, I would have pitied them.

I walked towards the child emitting the most powerful smell. I made sure she was the one with dwindling time before starting. She was incredibly tiny, filling only a third of her bed. According to her scent, she wouldn't last another week. While that was a long time for a human, we couldn't wait for her to die naturally. So, deciding she would do, I hummed a dulcet lullaby to calm her. The souls taken for immortality must be perfectly extracted. To do that, the human must feel at peace when you take them.

The little one lulled deeper into a slumber she would never awake from. I almost envied the fact that she could sleep so peacefully. In one brisk motion, I dug my nail into her chest and sliced it open. Her skin was soft and powdery to the touch. I could see her blood weakly pumping through her translucent skin as it poured out from the cut. She protested a minuscule amount, giving off a muffled cry that died away as soon as I released my finger from her stomach. Then, I waved a hand above her heart, waiting. After a millisecond, something glistened from within her. The soul trickled scrupulously, as I coaxed it onto the palm of my hand. It was whiter than the first snowfall, and shimmered brilliantly in haphazard circles. I engulfed it, careful to store it in myself until the time was right. It slid down easily enough, though the taste was too bland to be considered good.

The opening on her body had healed itself by the time I devoured the soul, leaving no visible mark on her. She merely appeared to be asleep. I glanced behind me, wondering how he would react to seeing such a scene.

He walked over to me and squeezed my hand, as if to tell me it was okay. I caught him looking from me to the girl, and so I stepped aside to let him approach her. He poked a finger in the incubator, and lightly tapped her hand. He whispered a muted sorry to no one, aware that she was already gone. It made me wonder if I made the right choice. Perhaps bringing him with me would make it more difficult to accept the souls.

Oncoming footsteps alerted me we were not alone. Apparently, he heard it too. He nodded calmly at me, and I picked him up again. We vanished as promptly as we came.

The rest of the night carried on in a similar manner as we executed our plan. We went from hospital to hospital, stopping to take a single soul. It was a tedious task, proving more difficult as the moon began to fade.

I had my share of overindulgence. Collecting this amount of souls was nothing new to me. This time, however, was somewhat different. I was accustomed to devouring them immediately, and not being able to do that was putting a strain on me. Each kill was more difficult than the last. The temptation to consume them was overwhelming. But the thought of having the one in my arms forever, was strong enough to resist the urge.

We moved along, making sure not to stay in one place. Too many deaths in the same area would attract unwanted attention from insufferable reapers, and I didn't have the time or energy to handle them.

The last, quivering soul swirled like a tornado in my hand. I guzzled it down hastily and let Ciel have a moment with the final child. The beat of his heart spurned erratically, and he informed me when he was ready to go. I picked him up once again, and brought him to the spot where it all began.

There was nothing left of the manor. Its remnants vanished long ago, long after my mark disappeared. From its ruins sprouted fir trees which grew abundantly in the area. Trees twice the size of buildings were the only things that could be spotted for miles around. Many generations passed since Ciel first appeared on earth, and since then, many things have also changed. These grounds were no longer a phantom of the past. They were a promise of a greater tomorrow.

I steadied him in front of me. Without a word, I made an incision across the back of my left hand. A contract was once engraved there, a covenant that cut deeper than the lines of the insignia. My blood poured out from the gash as my body instantaneously attempted to heal itself. His eyes widened in shock, but he didn't object. He merely watched me as he had done for the past few hours. I extended my hand, and he accepted it. Blood oozed off it, and he looked at me questioningly.

"Drink," I instructed.

Without hesitating, he brought it closer to his lips. His tongue darted out, licking the blood off me before any more spilled. He grimaced to tell me the taste was unpleasant. Then, he sunk his teeth around my cut, drawing out more blood. He continued drinking, suckling so hard that my hand began to feel sore. But he latched on tighter, despite my discomfort, and I had to forcefully push him off until he eventually obliged.

I healed my wound while he wiped my blood from the corners of his mouth. He had a strange affinity for it, after all. It was amusing watching him lick it off his fingers. When he settled down, he looked at me expectantly.

"Once I do this, there is no turning back. I will ask you again. Is this truly what you want?"

He smiled so unconvincingly, it was painful to look at, but he nodded without pause, and said,

"Yes."

Ducking in, I connecting our lips and moving them apart. He grinned at my sudden force, giving me access. The first soul I allowed to leave me trickled cautiously into him. He swallowed it steadily, exploring the new flavour as the blinding white light glowed within him. The first soul escaped me without a problem, pulling with it the next.

I didn't notice anything was wrong until his fingers dug urgently into my chest. The second soul was forcing its way into him faster than he could handle, and he was choking on it. No sooner did he guzzle it down before the third and fourth enter him. He was struggling to stand while the next few flowed into him, yet still he took them. They filled his senses until he was so confused that he didn't know what to do. He thrashed about, showing me his inability to deal with them. Their emotions were overpowering him. They were too much for him to bear all at once.

He was gulping for air now. His lungs were on fire, and he pushed me away. He was begging me to stop, but I could not do what he wanted. The exchange of souls was still happening. We were still connected by them, and breaking it would only put him in more danger.

Finally the last one slipped into him, and I released him. He coughed, spluttering all over the place. Dropping to his knees, he heaved the contents of his stomach. A disgusting sound came from him, as he wheezed, collapsing next to his vomit. As soon as he touched the ground, a violent convulsion take over him. The spasm overtook his limbs, jerking him around. Pushing him to his side, I crouched beside him, watching anxiously. He continued the fit without my interference.

Suddenly, he stopped and rolled to his back. He let out a big sigh, and looked at me. His lashes batted, and I was unsure what was happening, but...

No.

_No_.

NO!

"Please Ciel, not again. Come back to my, my love, please come back to me." I gingerly lifted him onto my lap, clutching him to me. I was a mess of incoherent mumbling, but didn't seem shocked by it. He only stared at me with those azure eyes that I adored more than my own life. I rocked us gently, trying to comfort him, only to destroying myself in the process.

I can recall the precise moment his heart stopped beating. The horrible, echoing silence that followed split my insides. A crushing weight even my inhuman strength could not move fixated on my chest. I felt like someone was shooting bullets through my head over and over again. Of course that pain would have been more tolerable. It made me want to scream at the rest of the world, but I did not. There was no use in doing so. My beloved, my mate, was dead for good. There is nothing this world could offer me that would be worth staying alive. There was nothing left.

Falling atop his body, I rested my head on his chest. Burying my face into him I inhaled the sweetness of his scent, already growing weaker with each breath. I decided I would not move from this spot until I was dead as well. Surely, it will take more than centuries, but I would wait. I would wait until death took me as its own, and we would be together.

Demons do not cry. Demons _do not cry_. And yet, here I was.

I don't know what I did, or how long I was there for. If days passed or if night barely left, I wasn't sure. At some point I heard a fluttering heartbeat, but I ignored it. If something was lurking in these woods, I would surrender to it.

When nothing came, I passed it off as my imagination. I almost forgot about the sound, drowning in my sorrow, when suddenly, I heard a humdrum heartbeat coming from his hallow shell. It was faster than a kitten's purr.

"Sebastian...?" a voice called from under me. A creature with the likeness of me, calling me by _that_ name?

If I hadn't moved, I would have mistaken him for someone else. He wasn't the breakable effigy I remembered. His skin was healthier, the cream coloured glow like marble. The clothes that hung off him earlier barely fit him now. His muscular stature made him seem older, stronger. Fang like incisors shaped in his mouth, and his nails were coated in the darkest shade of black. His voice, still as smooth as buttermilk, was so alluring that I felt myself falling under his spell. I could see the hint of crimson hidden in his saucer eyes, but they were the unmistakable ones I loved. These were the sure signs of a newly dangerous predator.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting," he said with a smirk, and brushed a finger on my lips. Wiping away my tear, he blinked, wondering why I was observing him. I didn't bother asking questions. I knew we had all the time in the world for explanations.

Running a thumb across his cheek, I was amazed that he was really here. Lifting his head upwards, I planted a kiss on the hallow of his collar. He stifled a moan and threw both arms over my shoulder. Prodded by his ardent gaze, I allowed him to lower his mouth onto mine, already hungry for a dose of his expert kiss.

We won't worry about anything from now on. The past should be cherished, and the future looked forward to with hope. Both, however, are dangerously misleading. Romanticizing the past hindered me from moving forward the way thinking solely of the future terrified him to try. It was a notion that took centuries for either of us to grasp, and even longer to correct.

For now, we will revel in the present of our perpetually unchanging love. I may devote myself entirely to his existence, and that, I was ready to do.

On days like today, when the sun illuminated the country with its warmth, I found myself distracted by the melody of a blackbird. I noticed the source in the corner of my eye and was surprised to find two of them singing together. They flew around each other, dipping back down if the other fell behind. It occurred to me that the harshness of winter had seemingly melted overnight. Gone was the slush and leafless trees. The budding grass was a testament to it. This desolate land was privy to new life. And likewise, a different season unfolded before us: one that offered us _eternity_.

The end.

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><p><strong>Thank you so much for staying with me! I really hope you liked the ending. It was kind of longer than I intended it to be, but oh well. I'm planning to write another sebaciel story or two for a contest on tumblr, but after that, I think I'll probably be taking a break!<strong>

**Please send me some love by reviewing/favouriting (wow that sounded lamer when I typed it). You guys are awesome and I really love you all! Thank you a thousand times over!**


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